Planescape: Curiosity and the Cat
by DM2
Summary: The adventures of an agnostic sleuth during one evening in Sigil. Rated M for violence, language, and sex related dialogue.


David Mitchell  
  
Curiosity and the Cat  
  
Note: This story is set in TSR's Planescape setting, though the characters and incidents that take place here are my own creations, based on a session I ran recently on a message board role-playing game.  
  
It is said that curiosity killed the cat. Who would have known that curiosity, the most  
  
basic cornerstone of the human intellect would also be its most dangerous, or that beyond  
  
our understanding existed a vast stretch of worlds only reachable through powerful spells  
  
and magical gateways? That these planes are infinite, and that their collective existence is  
  
in some places referred to as the 'multiverse' instead of the universe? Or that in the center  
  
of these realms lies a city built on the inside of a giant ring at the top of an infinitely tall  
  
spire where gateways to every plane in existence are to be found? That you don't have to  
  
wait until you die to travel to the realm of your particular afterlife? Or- and this is the  
  
most amazing part-that these realms are formed, or at least effected by the beliefs held  
  
by the inhabitants of the world as we know it-the prime material plane?  
  
Beliefs have the power to change reality, and nowhere is this more realized than the City  
  
of Doors. Curiosity killed the Hellcat, it is said in Baator (or the Nine Hells as it is  
  
referred to in the prime). Perhaps the Society of Sensation, one of the many philosophical  
  
factions in the city, has a more appropriate adage: Curiosity killed the Hellcat, but not the  
  
Sensate! For all knowledge is accessible in some way or another in Sigil, the city of  
  
doors, and perceptions are to be forever challenged on planes is one facet of truth the  
  
planars face each day. Woe to those who arrive without prior knowledge of the planes,  
  
the 'clueless primes' as they are called.  
  
Yoss Martens had a curious dream. He was nearing the top of and endless flight of  
  
stairs, having been guided by a warm and tender light. The door was open, and he  
  
proceeded to enter. As he neared the threshold, however, the door slammed shut with  
  
harsh cruelly, snuffing out the light and replacing it with bitter cold darkness. Before  
  
Yoss could do anything else, he found himself tumbling into a blackened void.  
  
Before long, he found stable footing, but looked up only to find himself in a gray-black  
  
lifeless corridor. Frantically, he run up the passage as it bent and turned. Eventually he  
  
came across a side passage which split to the left. Taking it, he found that it only lead to  
  
an identical corridor, which went on for the same length until it came to a four-way  
  
intersection. He took the right corridor this time but found that it is no different from the  
  
others and lead back to the same area. The corridors were endless.  
  
  
  
As he ran through the maze, he heard a voice:  
  
The obvious point is you're insane. Control your life through insanity.  
  
Then he awoke. Yoss reclined on the battered cot of his crappy one-room low-rent  
  
apartment, where he walls were chipped blackened marble, the drapes were dusty velvet,  
  
and even the brass-plated table was dingy and tarnished. It was the Marble District of the  
  
Hive, quite possibly the best place in the absolute worst ward in all of Sigil.  
  
His notes were scattered around him and his violin case lied at the foot of the bed. He  
  
must have dozed off in mid-day. His socks didn't match either, but that was nothing new.  
  
Yoss attended the mirror, for his personal hygiene was nothing short of fastidious, though  
  
his clothing usually appeared wrinkled and mismatched.  
  
Yoss was a thin man of average height, his skin was very light in complexion, and his  
  
hair was red with several shocks of pure white. His ears were also slender and pointed,  
  
thus betraying his mixed lineage of both human and elven origins. Being a bastard born  
  
with not only interracial mixed heritage, but noble and lower class as well, Yoss was left  
  
a great deal of time with which to ponder and develop his own intellect and insatiable  
  
curiosity.  
  
Unfortunately, this landed him in trouble with what were considered the most powerful  
  
beings in the multiverse: the gods themselves. Yoss had always considered himself an  
  
atheist, but he was intrigued with the apparent powers displayed by priests.  
  
There can be no doubt that the beings known as gods and the powers they grant to their  
  
followers on the various prime worlds are real, but one troubling fact remained. Just as  
  
the planes themselves were the realms personified by human beliefs-weather in law,  
  
chaos, good or evil, the gods themselves also seem to gain more power with the more  
  
worshippers they have, and sometimes die when no one worships them. And sometimes,  
  
of course, gods kill each other as well. Some planars even question the ultimate divnity of  
  
such beings, though the fact remains that the power of the gods, divine or not, is  
  
unequalled in the multiverse.  
  
Yoss, having already attained a background in learning the thaumaturgical arts, began  
  
to devise experiments duplicating the effects of divine or clerical magic, and for no  
  
apparent reason other than his own curiosity. That he was a true oxymoron- an atheist  
  
cleric who could duplicate the granted powers through introspection and focus rather than  
  
prayer-Yoss had committed the ultimate blasphemy.  
  
And hence he fled through a portal and arrived in Sigil. He had heard it was a neutral  
  
haven as far as the influence of the gods was concerned, and that was quite correct. No  
  
gods enter the city, though their worshippers and servants can and do, and this rule is  
  
enforced by the enigmatic ruler figure of the city-a mysterious floating being known  
  
only as the Lady of Pain. But that, dear reader, is another matter entirely.  
  
Only seconds after glancing into the mirror did Yoss hear a knock at the door. He  
  
looked around in a bit of a haze, and then did his best to gather himself, bellowing in the  
  
general direction of the door:  
  
"Did you happen to take note of the condition of that door before you decided to attack  
  
it with such ferocity? Give me a minute and I might manage to help you avoid a breaking  
  
and entering charge!"  
  
Yoss checked to make sure his staff was behind the door, and then opened it a crack.  
  
"How can I help you my demonstrative friend?"  
  
Opening the door a hair, he saw a robed man with long black hair and a hard look in his  
  
eyes.  
  
"Hello there." the man said with a quick smile, "My name is Rallsed. I'm an envoy for  
  
the Athar. Are you that tinkerer that hires himself out to solve mysteries?"  
  
The Athar were one of the many philosophical factions which vied to gain influence in  
  
Sigil as Yoss remembered, though he had yet to become familiar with each of them. Yoss  
  
fully opened the door.  
  
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Rallsed. Folks have gotten in the habit of referring  
  
to me as Yoss and if it pleases, you can continue this rich tradition. Occasionally I have  
  
been known to occupy my mind and refill my coffers by doing the odd bit of sleuthing  
  
here and there. Please let me hear what you have to say and we can proceed from there."  
  
He gestured into the apartment.  
  
"I can offer you entrance, but I fear that taking a seat might prove more dangerous than  
  
beneficial."  
  
He then started digging around for food or drink to offer his guest.  
  
"That's quite alright," Rallsed said with a smile, "I can get here and there, but I'm not a  
  
particularly good envoy, you see. I tend to be brief and too the point. I was going to treat  
  
you whatever pub you'd wish, but there's not too many I'd like to enter in this ward.  
  
I'm sure you must know that Signers and the Athar have lately been getting along about  
  
as well as baatezu and tanar'ri. You see, there's an old abandoned church along Arbor  
  
Road in the Lower Ward--that's near the Shattered Temple--that's been causing some  
  
commotion. The church was going to be torn down by a Harmonium agent who bought  
  
the property, but it seems the work crew has disappeared. Apparently, there are five  
  
standing stones dedicated to whatever forgotten god the temple was built for. I'm not sure  
  
what power they are for what their function is, seeing as how I haven't been called back  
  
there yet, but they seem to have some magical property.  
  
There is also a particularly barmy subgroup in the Sign of One that wants to get into the  
  
temple to resurrect this supposed fallen deity--right here in Sigil nonetheless--to prove  
  
their own 'imagining' philosophy. It's bad enough the fools tried that with Aoskar, but  
  
despite that fiasco and our recent conflict with that faction, some still want to attempt the  
  
same here."  
  
Rallsed rolled his eyes.  
  
"My faction wants nothing more than to see the stones destroyed and to keep everyone  
  
out of the church. Of course, they haven't a clue how to do that yet, and we're preparing  
  
to examine the place soon. The only good news so far is that the Harmonium recognize  
  
this threat and are providing some assistance.  
  
Still, I think we haven't tumbled to the dark yet, and I suspect it will difficult if  
  
someone doesn't poke around a little, park their ears in the right places, and find out  
  
what's really going on. Someone outside of our faction."  
  
Yoss nodded carefully.  
  
"Given the amount of free time I seem to have come by lately, I think that I might be  
  
able to do some judicious nosing around. I am assuming that you would like things to  
  
remain quite hush hush and all...should a curious individual come by some interesting  
  
information, how might he pass it on and how much might he expect to be compensated  
  
for it?"  
  
"Hmm..." Rallsed said, "I'm not sure what to tell you. Most common sods can be made  
  
to speak with a little garnish; say 10 gold or so. If they're bloods, you can be the price is  
  
going to be higher.  
  
This kind of investigation requires delicate touch. In fact, my faction doesn't even know  
  
I'm seeking you out. Basically, you're on your own--but that's why I'll be filling your  
  
pockets with jink.  
  
Still, it seems you won't be the only one searching for these darks. From what I heard,  
  
the Fraternity of Order has dispatched someone to investigate. A paladin I believe.  
  
There's also a rumor that the Transcendant Order, who have no interest in keeping  
  
anything about themselves dark, has sent someone as well...a wind duke. These are the  
  
only obvious investigators. Other factions probably have an interest in this as well.  
  
We have one important lead, however. A basher named Hulester used to be a high-up  
  
member of the Athar. Turns out he's really an Anarchist. He was recently found out, and  
  
the whole thing's pretty public, so the poor sod's days of infiltration might be over for  
  
good. His own faction probably won't touch him with a 10-foot pole (unless it's got a  
  
sharpened point at the end) at least until this dies down. Hulester might know more about  
  
what's going on, and he has no loyalty to any faction he might have posed under in the  
  
past.  
  
If you agree, I can offer you down payment now, plus more if you can get any  
  
information back to me within a week."  
  
Yoss smiled.  
  
"Frightfully 'fraid I did a poor job of laying that out." He said, "Whilst I am always as  
  
concerned as the next bloke about the plight of the poor pikers out there, it was the lining  
  
of my own pockets that had my immediate concern..."  
  
He nodded his head again, contemplating.  
  
"Well, I can honestly say that you have aroused my interest...very well, I accept your  
  
terms, providing the profit is as generous as you promise. Now let me ask you a few  
  
questions...First, given the sensitive nature of this investigation, shall I pass any  
  
information directly on to you and if so where might I find you? Second, where might I  
  
casually come into contact with this Hulester basher?"  
  
This time he stared intently at Rallsed. Yoss was willing to help, but he was no fool,  
  
and his years of experience had given him the ability to read others fairly well.  
  
"And finally, are you holding anything back that will probably end me in some nasty  
  
sort of rub? Sorry, have to ask, you have no idea how often this sort of thing seems to  
  
turn on a humble investigator..."  
  
Rallsed only smiled  
  
"Excellent. You might find me either at the Shattered Temple or the church itself,  
  
depending on where I'm needed, but if you try to talk to me then I won't know you.  
  
Though my faction will be grateful tome in the end, I can't risk anything at the moment.  
  
Most likely I'll know where you are during that time, though. I'll meet you in a week at  
  
the Fat Candle--that's a tavern in the Market Ward--far away from this whole mess.  
  
Hulester shouldn't be too hard to find. Any number of bashers might even be able to  
  
give a verbal description of him--which is the main reason he's out of work. Last I heard  
  
he frequents some of the taverns on Ironmonger street--close to the church itself--and  
  
there are only a few."  
  
Rallsed chuckled a bit too.  
  
"And I have no intention of turning on you. I only like to be well- informed."  
  
"Good enough, good enough..." Yoss replied, "It seems that we have an agreement.  
  
Now, before I get started, is there any amount of up-front funding that you can provide?  
  
Limbering lips and greasing palms can run up a healthy tab rather quickly."  
  
"Of course." Rallsed said.  
  
He reached into his robes and pulled out a small velvet bag to hand to Yoss. He could  
  
feel the weight of the coins within.  
  
"Hmph." he said, "I can't believe they've convinced Factol Terrance to focus this  
  
investigation on the church. I'm betting it's coming from the Signers themselves.  
  
Unfortunately, my faction's not only trying to keep everyone out of the church, but  
  
everyone around the area silent. Don't believe all the chant you hear either.  
  
Well...I'll have to be leaving soon, but thanks for taking this up."  
  
He studied Yoss for a second.  
  
"I don't know much about you, but from what I heard I figured you'd be sympathetic to  
  
the cause."  
  
Yoss' smile faded.  
  
"That may be at least partially correct...and I apologize because this is probably a rather  
  
poor way for me to respond to your statement. I fear that at present, whatever that is."  
  
He frowned, considering. The Athar were one of the least popular factions in Sigil, and  
  
indeed anywhere, since they were a faction founded on the belief that the gods  
  
themselves were not divine, and religion, consequently, the biggest hoax of the planes.  
  
Still, being free of divine influence, Sigil was one of the few places they could question  
  
safely, and some have even said that is a powerful testament against their philosophy.  
  
".it is rather difficult for me to be certain about much of anything. I can say that I  
  
currently harbor a disbelief of divinity that probably coincides with many of the views  
  
held by your faction, at least as far as I understand it. If only I did not also have a bit of  
  
disbelief of disbelief... I am still rather new here and should probably learn more,  
  
however, before I rush to any judgments. I have so much to learn...including learning  
  
how to learn...and how to trust what I learn...or understand what I learn...or figure out  
  
what learning is...or if I can..."  
  
Yoss stopped himself with visible effort.  
  
"Well, enough of that, I fear that I am detaining you with my own concerns and  
  
ramblings. I think that you have been honest with me and I will do my all to learn what I  
  
can and report it back to you. Thank you for your business and I shall look forward to our  
  
meeting at the Fat Candle in one week's time..."  
  
Rallsed nodded thoughtfully, but he did not quite head for the door.  
  
"Yes..." he said, "If you're searching for darks you'll find a more than enough to chew  
  
on in Sigil. If you don't mind my asking, do you think your disillusionment has brought  
  
you strength or insecurity?"  
  
"I." Yoss hesitated, ".wish that I could say that disillusionment and doubt solely  
  
bring me strength and open-mindedness...but constantly questioning everything,  
  
particularly my own actions, and never knowing...takes a heavy toll...so for the moment I  
  
guess I have to call it a wash."  
  
He smiled weakly at Rallsed, who only nodded.  
  
"Well...just be careful what you end up believing in. On the planes your belief is a  
  
powerful tool. Good luck, then. I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm running late already."  
  
With those words, the Athar envoy departed as Yoss closed the door as he left and  
  
began muttering to himself.  
  
"Great, maybe now I need to not believe in anything...or maybe that is a belief system  
  
itself...ah bugger it all..."  
  
After a moment of consideration, Yoss counted up the coins he received, which  
  
numbered at around 200, then cleaned himself up, gathered his equipment and dresses,  
  
and set off in the general direction of Ironmonger street, locking up as he left.  
  
Before long Yoss exited the apartment complex and headed out into the neighborhood.  
  
It was nearing dark already, and looking above into the night sky, he could see countless  
  
small lights, not to be mistaken for stars, which marked the other side of city.  
  
Sigil was a giant ring twenty miles in circumference, where any direction you traveled  
  
was 'uphill' and gravity was relative to wherever you stood. Looking up at the other side  
  
of the city usually induced nausea. There was no sun, though the thick greasy sky  
  
brightened and darkened according to a predictable schedule the way the sun would in the  
  
prime. It frequently rained as well, and the water was usually brown and cruddy. It was a  
  
gray and grimy place where most buildings were covered in dangerous razorvine and the  
  
cynical inhabitants were quick to take advantage of the clueless.  
  
Sigil was divided into 6 different wards, each of varying size. The Hive was worst place  
  
imaginable, the wretched slums that were often home to gangs and vicious fiends from  
  
the lower planes. The Lower Ward-named such because it had several portals leading to  
  
these areas-was scarcely a more enjoyable place to visit, though it bordered the Hive  
  
and that was where Yoss was heading.  
  
Bedlam run beckoned out of the vicinity and snaked by the imposing Gatehouse of the  
  
Bleak Cabal, which served as an asylum, orphanage, and infirmary. Yoss knew little  
  
about this faction as well, except for their belief in the lack of meaning in life and the  
  
multiverse. He could hear some of the usual commotion from the long line of waiting  
  
people (though they are too far away to hear anything specific) and many are growing  
  
restless with the waiting.  
  
A few blocks beyond the Gatehouse lied the Ragpicker's Square and the Mortuary  
  
itself, which bordered the Lower Ward closer. This Mortuary was manned by the  
  
Dustmen, who, not unlike the Jehovah's Witnesses of a certain prime world, believed that  
  
life was cruel and death was purity. Hence, they would achieve 'true death' by purging  
  
themselves of all passions and desires. However, they had the dubious honor of taking  
  
care of the city's dead. Ironmonger street was still a mile or two away. It was likely Yoss  
  
would be out all night.  
  
The streets grow more somber, shadowy, and lifeless as he passed Backshade Lane and  
  
Ragpicker's Square, for he knew that at night, the Dustmen kept their undead patrolling  
  
the periphery of the Mortuary. It was a low and menacing dome with clusters of  
  
windowless vaults surrounding it. The streets narrowed a bit and winded through the  
  
wretched tenements, occasionally passing a tavern or two, such as Benni's Tap or The  
  
Snapped Finger (the latter is known for it's nightly fights, for which there is no extant  
  
furniture and everyone stands). A few bubbers stumbled past Yoss on the streets, but for  
  
the most part he was ignored.  
  
Of course, the most dangerous predators in this ecological struggle lurk at night, so it  
  
should not be surprising that Yoss, wandering in the worst place in Sigil at the worst  
  
time, had one such encounter.  
  
It happened when he was nearing the reeking ditch of sewage that separated the Hive  
  
from the Lower Ward, over which a reasonable-looking bridge closed the gap. As he  
  
approached the bridge, Yoss examined the ditch with a shudder to disguise the fact that  
  
he was carefully scanning the area for anything out of the ordinary before he crossed and  
  
continues on his way.  
  
The ditch was horrid and festering, but he saw nothing. He heard some quick running  
  
and vaulting coming from beneath and around the bridge, however, and when he looked  
  
up he saw two thick-necked men armed with short swords and clubs climbing to the top.  
  
They approached slowly, one tossing a dagger to himself.  
  
"Nice night for a walk, isn't it berk?" he said.  
  
Yoss measured the distance between himself and the two men.  
  
"Well, that has yet to be determined..." he said, "How can I help you fellows?"  
  
"No one crosses this bridge after antipeak without payin' the music, berk." the thug  
  
said.  
  
He approached steadily, and Yoss could see the accumulated layers of grime on his skin  
  
(sometimes it couldn't be differentiated from his tattoos and stubble) as well as the fact  
  
that he was missing a few teeth.  
  
Yoss frowned.  
  
"I would advise that you halt right there. I am a healer here on a mission of mercy and  
  
have little of value on my person, as you can see. I have no desire to harm either one of  
  
you but I assure you that I am an able mage and will protect myself if you force me to do  
  
so. I will also feel little obligation to heal wounds that I personally inflict...I wonder how  
  
flammable that layer of muck covering your person is?"  
  
Yoss grinned nastily, and then readied himself, raising his oaken staff into the air. If the  
  
thugs continue to advance, he would cast an illusion like that of a mirror with multiple  
  
reflections on himself and follow it with a flame sheet from his fingertips when both were  
  
in range of the spell. If space and time would allow, he would loose a basic magic missile  
  
at the closest thug . Of course, he intended to break off if, at any time, they would retreat.  
  
They didn't draw back, unfortunately.  
  
"You'll soon sleep with the dead, you peevish nuthook!" one shouted.  
  
Then he heard something behind him. Turning slightly so as to not leave himself  
  
undefended, Yoss had spotted a third thug behind him. This one was different from the  
  
others, and suitably demonic in appearance. He was a muscular creature with a blueish-  
  
gray complexion. He is hairless and has a pair of forward curling bull's horns on either  
  
side of his large head. He was what planars referred to as a tiefling, a being with more  
  
than a trace of demon blood running through his veins. No two ever looked alike, but  
  
they both fascinated and repulsed humans nonetheless.  
  
Yoss blinked. He completed the spell before they advanced any further, and thoroughly  
  
confused the thugs, for now they saw not one Yoss in front of them, but six!  
  
The first thug swung his cudgel about madly and smacked one of the mirror images,  
  
causing it to vanish but nothing more. His companion hurled a dagger which proved  
  
similarly fruitless.  
  
The tiefling drew a katar in his off-hand and a short sword in his right. He lashed at the  
  
images, but to no avail. In fact the more they swung, the less they ended up hitting. Once  
  
they were confused, Yoss put his thumbs together and exposed them to a huge sheet of  
  
bright red flame, which both startled and burned his assailants, though having been  
  
scorched, they still did not retreat.  
  
Still having the Magic Missile in reserve, Yoss fired five more colorful bursts of energy  
  
from his extended fingertips which dropped the dagger-hurler instantly. Finally, the  
  
tiefling backed away, though the fouler and enraged thug continued to futilely attack.  
  
Each tired swing was matched only by his equally tired and bloodshot eyes.  
  
Yoss addressed the tiefling.  
  
"If you value the life of this daft berk, you will help me disable him...otherwise I would  
  
suggest that you run. I am being as gentle as I can and I may have accidentally killed that  
  
poor bugger over there."  
  
As he said this the thug attacked again, but he was only met by a whack to the face  
  
from Yoss' staff.  
  
The tiefling hesitated but nodded. He then rushed toward his companion and grappled  
  
him, grabbing his right arm. Before long the two men were in a stalemate, though the  
  
matter was soon decided as Yoss ended it quickly by tripping the thug with his staff while  
  
the tiefling continued to pin him to the ground.  
  
"I am sorry that it came to this," he said, "I merely wanted to prove a point that giving  
  
in would not have. Although I do possess a great deal of power, there are quite a few that  
  
have a great deal more. If you continue this course of action, you can see the eventual  
  
result."  
  
He pointed to the slain thief.  
  
"I think that you are doing this because you need to do so to survive...you have at least  
  
displayed some concern for each other's welfare and I hope that you can extend it to  
  
strangers as well. I am quite financially poor myself, but I would have given you what I  
  
could spare to help you survive if you had but asked without threatening harm. Not  
  
everyone intends to do you harm or wishes you ill..."  
  
Yoss looked over at the fallen thug for a second, but he was already charred beyond  
  
recognition from the effects of the spell.  
  
"I am leaving now and later I shall report this place to the authorities as a spot where  
  
ambushes regularly take place, but I will not describe my attackers. Remain here at your  
  
own risk, and please use this to help you survive in the mean time."  
  
Yoss then knelt to place a small amount of money near the fallen thug.  
  
"I wish I could offer better advice on how to survive, I am just learning how to do so  
  
myself...and I still have much to learn about peaceful solutions to problems myself...I  
  
apologize for any harm that I have caused you and wish you luck in finding a way to  
  
survive without harming others. Please use this opportunity to that end, in the future  
  
should we meet under similar circumstances I will not be this compassionate."  
  
He then turned and continued on his way, warily looking back to ensure he was not be  
  
pursued. The tiefling continued to stare as he subdued his grumbling companion and  
  
helped him to his feet. He nodded to Yoss and removed a ring from his right hand. He  
  
tossed it in his direction and the two departed without a word.  
  
Yoss picked up the ring and tucks it away for later. He looked sadly at the charred  
  
corpse for a moment and continued on his trip to Ironmonger street, cursing himself as he  
  
walked.  
  
"Nooooo...gotta be arrogant and figure you can talk them down...nearly get yourself  
  
killed along with that poor berk...'course you might have saved some other travelers, but  
  
that doesn't really improve that poor dead bastard's plight any...that reminds me, I really  
  
need to figure out some of those clerical spells for restraining movement..."  
  
The streets bordering Ragpicker's Square continued to unsnake and broaden as he  
  
reached the outskirts of the Lower Ward. These streets were also very quiet, almost  
  
empty.  
  
As he passed, he began to feel drops of rain. The entire surrounding neighborhood in a  
  
blocks-wide area looked more or less razed. Fields of untamed razorvine grew in fields  
  
that used to be building perimeters, obscuring the boundary between the Hive and the  
  
Lower Ward. Yoss spied a few poor wandering around here and gathering up loose  
  
stones and beams from the surrounding falling-down buildings. Walking down Astral  
  
Walk and entering Barmy Street, he came by the Shattered Temple, headquarters of the  
  
Athar.  
  
It was a tilted skeleton of a building, looming above the lesser ruins, and though the  
  
Athar had shored up the remains of this crumbling sanctuary, they probably liked the  
  
ravaged mood of the place--for it sat on the edge, near a few other abandoned buildings,  
  
about where the cobblestones in the street begin to improve. Many tightly clustered  
  
houses, shops and inns lied beyond, inviting with their light and warmth. The Athar didn't  
  
recieve many visitors, but they are still receptive to guests. Several fierce but cautious-  
  
looking guards stood around the outside of the temple.  
  
Downward form the Spire (i.e. "south") was Ironmonger Street. Yoss headed down the  
  
desolate boulevard, thinking of nothing but a pub to relax in. The nearest bar would have  
  
been the Soused Duck, but that was a faction bar next to the Shattered Temple itself.  
  
He passed a few run-down businesses and homes while traveling a few streets that lead  
  
downward of the Shattered Temple, though there aren't many taverns. One abandoned  
  
street harbored a narrow puddle-filled alleyway that was made of a crumbling cistern and  
  
another unidentifiable building. After this one, however, he found himself at Anvil  
  
Square, where convenient signs showed that it branched off into many streets, like Pink  
  
Pearl Way, Dis Road, Arbor Road, and Ironmonger Street. Lights shone from within  
  
some buildings though, casting a dim glow throughout the gloomy nighttime sky.  
  
The relatively quiet street stretched on for a while until he spotted another noticeable  
  
pub. It was a three story building that looks a little less unpleasant than the other  
  
surrounding it. It's name was an appropriate one too: The Ubiquitous Wayfarer.  
  
Smiling wryly, Yoss entered the place an eyeballed the interior. The tavern had a  
  
friendlier atmosphere than any he'd seen in the Hive. It was full to capacity that night,  
  
and something about the look of the place told him that it was full every night. The smell  
  
of smoke, drink, and middle-class planars was thick in the air, as was the din from the  
  
talking and the two mediocre musicians who played pipes in the corner. A large statue  
  
that several folks seemed to be studying very carefully stood in the center of the taproom.  
  
Interested in the statue, Yoss carefully made his way to the center of the room. Up close  
  
he could see it resembled a barmy old wizard with a long beard and a pointed hat. When  
  
he got closer, the statue spoke:  
  
"My eyes are old and I can't eyeball a measurement to save my life. I've a mug that  
  
holds five fingers of bub, and another that holds three. I'm thirsty enough for four fingers  
  
of that fine stuff, but any more than that lays me out flat. What am I to do, for my bone-  
  
box is ever so dry..."  
  
"Heh." said a bulky man with a bushy black beard, "That magical statue tells a new  
  
riddle every week. Trouble is, I can't figure this one out for all the jink in Sigil."  
  
"That sure is a nasty one..." Yoss said innocently, "What does the lucky sod  
  
who solves the riddle earn? Is there some sort of a prize? Are there any bets riding on it?"  
  
"Hmm...none that I know of," the man said, "except solviln' the puzzle that's teased  
  
your brain-box. Let me see...would you be starting with the mug that holds five or the one  
  
that holds three? And which one would you be pourin' into which? Perhaps a 10 year old  
  
can enlighten me."  
  
"Well," Yoss said, "This ten year old is of the opinion that you could start with either  
  
and still solve the riddle...if you are interesed how I would be more than happy to offer a  
  
couple of my theories, but I do not wish to ruin your entertainment..."  
  
"Hmmm? Oh please tell. I'm afraid I'll loose sleep over this one."  
  
"This is just my thinking of it, might be right, might be wrong...you could start by  
  
filling the mug that holds five and use it to fill the mug that holds three, leaving two in  
  
the five mug. Then empty the three mug and pour the two from the five mug into it,  
  
leaving two in the three mug. Then, refill the five mug. Use the five mug to fill the last of  
  
the three mug, leaving four in the five mug and three in the three mug...or, you could start  
  
by filling the three mug and pouring it into the five mug, leaving three in the five mug  
  
and the three mug empty. Then you fill the three mug again and fill the five mug with  
  
two thirds of its contents, leaving the five mug filled and the three mug with one in it.  
  
Now empty the five mug and pour the one from the three mug into it. Now refill the three  
  
mug and pour its contents into the five mug, leaving four in it."  
  
The man chuckled knowingly as he spoke.  
  
"Amazing...I can't believe I couldn't figure that out. Phol Nerris." he said, extending his  
  
hand, "What can I do for you?"  
  
Yoss shook his hand.  
  
"Yoss Martens, pleased to make your acquaintance. I fear that I am a bit new here, both  
  
to Sigil and this part of town, and I wonder if you could help learn me a bit of the  
  
territory and its folk..."  
  
Phol nodded.  
  
"Ya, I could do that. Anything specific you'd like to know?"  
  
"Well, for starters, I had a bit of a nasty scrape with a right unsociable bugger just a  
  
while ago and I don't rightly know what set him off...I used to be a bit of a scholar back  
  
home and I was discussing religion with this bloke what I had just met. I was debating a  
  
theory about the origins of gods, when all of a sudden the sod gets angry, screams 'Filthy  
  
Athar, take this for Hulester' or something like that, and tries to perforate me with a bit of  
  
steel. Poor fellow wasn't in any position to explain himself afterword, I fear...I have no  
  
idea what set him off - is there anything you could tell me about 'Athar' or 'Hulester'? I  
  
really don't know what I did and I would like to avoid getting to any unnecessary scrapes  
  
or making enemies before I even get settled in."  
  
"The Athar, huh?" said Phol, "They're a faction that dwells near this place. They say the  
  
powers that everyone turns to for guidance are nothin' more than frauds. So they seek to  
  
prove it--and turn everyone else away from 'em. Bitter bloods they are. They usually  
  
aren't fun to be around, but their strong and knowledgeble cutters.  
  
Me, I'm an Indep. I got no qualm with organized religion so long as it don't interfere  
  
with an individual's right to think for himself. That's the surest gift the multiverse can  
  
give you, cutter. Free-thought. The way I see it, none of these factions know the dark of  
  
it.  
  
The Signers and Athar aren't on good terms either, you know. I thought I o'erheard  
  
some small group o' Signers planin' to slip past the Athar's blockade at that old church  
  
that's causin' so much trouble. And as for this Hulester sod...he's around. He comes in  
  
here often. Could be in here now, for all I know. I haven't checked."  
  
Yoss nodded, doing his best to act amazed.  
  
"So much to learn, so much to learn..." he said. "What is this business with an old  
  
church and the Signers? I must admit I don't know much about their faction, but I am not  
  
sure why they would have such interest in a church in Sigil, of all things...Also, do you  
  
think you could describe this Hulester for me? I bear him no ill will, but I would like to  
  
ask him a few questions about my earlier encounter. I am also a bit curious about the  
  
group you belong to, the Indeps. What can you tell me about the group and its  
  
philosophies?"  
  
"Hulester you can't miss." Phol said, "He's a middle-aged, gruff lookin' basher.  
  
Well...the Signers are a bunch o' pretentious soliphisists. They think the multiverse  
  
revolves around them and they can shape it with their thoughts. They don't try to recruit  
  
so much as impress, and recently they wanted to prove their philosophy by bringing a  
  
dead power back to life by imagining it so! They chose Aoskar--the god of portals, who'd  
  
been penned in the dead book by her serenity eons ago.  
  
Naturally, they nearly came to blows with the Athar over this, and it was too dangerous  
  
to pull off, but there's still some barmy Signers out there who've formed a cult dedicated  
  
to Aoskar and they want to bring him back. Most are likely to be mazed by the Lady. I  
  
hear if they're caught they're sentanced to death by the wyrm."  
  
He shuddered.  
  
"Now from what I've heard 'round here it seems that other group o' Singers is interested  
  
in this church for some reason--they want to break past the Athar barricade in a week or  
  
two."  
  
His voice then lowered to a whisper.  
  
"I know one blood in that group--an elven fellow--carries the name of Elchis."  
  
"Hmmmm..." said Yoss, lowering his voice to match, "What could be so interesting  
  
about that church? I must admit that I am becoming somewhat curious myself. Do you  
  
think that this Elchis would mind if I were to ask him about it?"  
  
Phol shrugged.  
  
"I couldn't rightly say...nor where he'd be found. The Signers set up kip in the Clerk's  
  
Ward at the Hall of Speakers, but that's across the bleedin' ring."  
  
"How did you come to meet this chap?...It sounds like this Hall of Speakers is a quite  
  
distant."  
  
"I overheard it here, actually." Phol says, "Signers aren't unknown to this kip. They  
  
have to be keeping watch on this area, though I don't know if they report back directly or  
  
have some kip nearby."  
  
"Well Phol," Yoss said, "I fear that I have taken up a good deal of your time and I am  
  
quite grateful for all of the information. This day's events are weighing rather heavily  
  
upon me and I really need a drink for my nerves and then I must find a place to get some  
  
rest...Say, you wouldn't happen to know of any local inns that are safe and relatively  
  
cheap, would you?"  
  
"Inns?" Phol said with a smile, "You're standing in one. That's what the upper two  
  
floors are for. This is a pretty popular kip anyways. It's said that there are more than two  
  
dozen portals here. Probably hersay at that. Luck be with you, cutter."  
  
Yoss found the bar not long after that. The bartender had years of hard work showing on  
  
her face and hands, and she pulled her graying hair severly back from her face so it didn't  
  
interfere with her work. A simple frock stained with other people's bub draped her stocky  
  
frame.  
  
As he approached, Yoss noticed a pair of strange women sipping their bub and  
  
watching everyone around them like hawks searching for prey. For some reason, they  
  
turned and focus their attention toward him when he reached the counter. They moved in  
  
tandum and stared in tandum. They sat so close that they might as well be joined at the  
  
hip.  
  
They both looked like tieflings, and weird opposites too. The tielfing on the right  
  
sported long black nails and black eyes with no pupils. Her complexion betrayed the  
  
faintest suggestion of green, and her hair was short and white with a slight pinkish tinge.  
  
She wore an angora vest over spiked leather armor, blood red leggings, a single  
  
meaningless rusty greave on one leg, and mismatched shoes.  
  
The left tiefling looked just as strange, albeit with a slightly better fashion sense. She  
  
was much stronger looking than her companion. This one had rich pink skin and milky  
  
white pupiless eyes. She also had long nails, but they weren't black like those of her  
  
friend. Her hair, on the other hand was raven black and a pair of catlike pointed ears  
  
protruded from underneath. A small ratlike tail (no more than a foot in length) curled  
  
around from behind and rested on her thigh. She wore black-tinted leather and a pair of  
  
matching breeches. A sword and dagger hung from scabbards on either side of her belt.  
  
They both wore identical (well, one was upside-down) amulets with a symbol of a  
  
toothy grimacing face with ram horns. Yoss wasn't certain what faction this represented...  
  
"Want something?" the bartender asked impatiently.  
  
"A glass of wine that won't bankrupt me, please." Yoss said, "Also, I am interested in  
  
your inn's accomodations - how are they priced and what do they offer?"  
  
Turning back, he decided to study the tieflings as they were studying him. Without a  
  
word, the bartender poured him a glass of something that tasted a bit diluded.  
  
"Two silver." she said afterwards, "Rooms are 2 gold each."  
  
The tieflings turned to each other and babbled something that totally incoherent, at least  
  
from where Yoss was sitting, and then promtly turned back toward him.  
  
"See something--" said the right tiefling.  
  
"--you like?" the left tiefling concluded.  
  
Yoss handed the bartender the appropriate fare.  
  
"I would also like to rent out one of your rooms for the night."  
  
Then he turned to the tieflings.  
  
"'Like' is such a subjective term with many dimensions and I always have grave  
  
reservations about applying it. I do think that I have seen something that has piqued my  
  
interest - which is what I interpret to be the interest of two attractive ladies who seem to  
  
share an interesting pattern of speech...so let me ask a question in turn...what is the nature  
  
of your interest?"  
  
"Six, but only on Fridays." the right one said.  
  
"Are you a spell-caster?" cooed the left in a smarmy childish voice, "We could use  
  
a spell-caster. It'll be fun. Wanna come?"  
  
"A little garnish can go a long way..." said the right one, "and services too..."  
  
The right tiefling lit an incense stick and placed it in her mouth like it were a cigar.  
  
"We ALWAYS reward the ones who help Nherid..." purred the one on the left. She  
  
indicated her companion on the right.  
  
"...and Valese." Nherid said, indicating the tiefling on her left.  
  
"Nherid, Valese," Yoss said, "pleased to meet you. My name is Yoss and I do have  
  
some knowledge of magic...what is this task that merits my assistance?"  
  
Valese smiled a grin that nearly connected her two pointed ears. She then placed one  
  
clawed finger over her mouth.  
  
"SHHHH!!!!! IT'S A SECRET!" she shouted.  
  
Then her voice became softer.  
  
"You'll find out." she said while maintaining a smile, "Long as you can help us get  
  
unseen and silent in case we fuck up any."  
  
"I'd come," Nherid added, "too I've experience but cutters gutting little from. You later  
  
find both I'll."  
  
She winked.  
  
"Well," Yoss said, "I do know a spell that can render a single person invisible for a  
  
short period of time and with a scroll I could probably manage another person...but I do  
  
worry about the nature of this task, I am not sure that I would want to help you go out and  
  
eviscerate some poor unsuspecting sod. I will be more than happy to help you, I just  
  
would like to make sure that we would not be unnecessarily harming someone. I fear that  
  
I already have one death on my hands this evening."  
  
Valese and Nherid laughed.  
  
"No, we're not killing anyone if everything goes fine. Just nabbing someone who's late  
  
for an appointment." Valese said.  
  
The she leaned in about six inches from him while an amused smile trickled onto her  
  
face.  
  
"So.who'd you kill?"  
  
"I was accosted by three stupid buggers while walking through town. They hemmed me  
  
in and for some sick reason I decided to take them on...thankfully two of them knocked  
  
off after I toasted their friend. Had I not been so arrogant, I probably could have, and  
  
should have, slipped away from them without killing the poor sod. Unfortunately, I felt  
  
like I had to prove a point about what they were doing...maybe they learned something,  
  
that is all I can hope for now, but I fear the effort was lost on their friend."  
  
Appearing distraught, Yoss took a hearty swig of his wine.  
  
"I will help you out with your task but I ask that we try to avoid any violence - I have  
  
little desire to add any additional victims to my tally this evening and I have used up most  
  
of my offensive magic so I would be of little use in a skirmish anyhow. If we can do this  
  
without harming anyone I offer you my services practically for free, all I will ask for in  
  
return will be information."  
  
Nherid looked at him oddly. Valese shrugged.  
  
"The stupid fuck got what was coming to him. And now that you've left 'em alive they'll  
  
probably bob some more berks until they get penned in the dead book themselves. You  
  
don't have to kill anyone. Just leave that to us..."  
  
Nherid then whispered something into Valese's ear.  
  
"...uh, if it comes to that. We'll give you the chant and more."  
  
"You may be right," Yoss sighed, "they might very well be out there at this moment  
  
taking out their frustration on some weak old lady because I failed to stop them when I  
  
had the chance...that is a possibility I have to live with."  
  
Yoss took another big swig of his wine.  
  
"I do, however, feel that people have the capacity to change. They may have been doing  
  
something horrible, but they probably had a reason for it. I have to hope that if I help  
  
people with their reasons and their reasoning, I might have some effect on their actions.  
  
Hell, I might be wrong myself, but I still feel like I have to try..."  
  
He then knocked down the rest of his wine and grinned sardonically.  
  
"A right crafty one you are. By implying my responsibility and suggesting that you  
  
might be doing something that I would disapprove of, you have pretty much forced me to  
  
accompany you lest I be responsible for your actions in my absence. Very well, I  
  
accept...now what are we going to do and how are we going to do it?"  
  
Valese smiled.  
  
"Just meeting some friends and waiting for one other to show up. But wait until we  
  
leave this place. Valese is barmy, but not stupid."  
  
Valese and Nherid alike continued to keep their attention focused on both Yoss and the  
  
door.  
  
"We are just going to wait here until some folks show up?" said Yoss, "When this  
  
crowd arrives, should I know you or should I just be a drunk who happens to be sitting  
  
next to you?"  
  
Valese leaned into him and whispered into his ear, all the while keeping her eye on the  
  
door.  
  
"Elister'll come in here and pretend to talk to someone. Once we see him we leave and  
  
meet him again at the Temple of the Abyss."  
  
"OK," said Yoss, "when we leave we head to the Temple of the Abyss - should I be  
  
with you when you meet Elister or should I be separate? I need to have you within arm's  
  
reach to cast an invisibility spell on you..."  
  
"Come with me..." Valese whispered, "Otherwise, they'll think you're some berk who's  
  
in the wrong place at the wrong time."  
  
Yoss whispered back.  
  
"Alright, good enough...let me ask you another question then before this Elister shows  
  
up - is it important that I know what the amulets you two are wearing represent? Some  
  
sort of faction?"  
  
"Oh this...?" Valese says as she stood up a little so that the face of the amulet--resting  
  
firmly in her cleavage--was at eye level. Nherid whacked him lightly in the head with  
  
hers.  
  
"It means I was a Dustman yesterday, an Anarchist today, a Taker tomorrow, a Guvner  
  
the day after, a Bleaker Tuesdays, a Sensate Thrusdays, an Indep in the morning, a Signer  
  
in the afternooon..."  
  
Valese grinned wickedly.  
  
"...and a Godsman at night."  
  
Yoss grinned as well.  
  
"That sounds dangerously close to a plan of activities that you two arrived at in concert  
  
for a couple who I assume to be somewhat chaotic. Of course, if you normally act  
  
chaotic, then perhaps planning itself is a chaotic act placed in context of others who are  
  
behaving randomly...'course it could have happened by accident, pure coincidence and  
  
all...or maybe..."  
  
Valese stuck her tongue out as he spoke, and its movements gradually became less  
  
animalisitic and more lascivious......until something caught her attention at the threshold.  
  
In stepped a short man, perhaps only 5'6", clad in unadorned and rusty plate mail. His  
  
face was unrecogniseable behind the bevor and sallet of his helmet. He stood still at the  
  
threshold silently, advanced toward the bar and sat near Valese without saying a word to  
  
her.  
  
"One Mistberry wine, please." he grunted.  
  
As the bartender attended to his request, Valese gulped what was left in her glass, and  
  
taking Yoss' hand, stood up from the table. Nherid stood still and winked.  
  
"That's it for the evening. Walk me home." she said.  
  
Something was odd about the way she said it, too. It wasn't her normal high-pitched  
  
whine. And to be perfectly honest, I'm not sure what Valese's normal voice sounds like.  
  
Yoss tried to match her behavior as best as possible.  
  
"Very well, shall we be on our way?"  
  
Elister removed the bevor of his helmet and drunk his wine, all the while looking a little  
  
too self-conscious in not noticing Valese. Valese, on the other hand, promtly lead Yoss  
  
out of the Ubiquitous Wayfarer and began heading toward the Lady's Ward. Yoss calmly  
  
followed, listening closely for further instruction. Valese remained silent as she covered  
  
more distance in the cris-crossing streets. Once again the sky was blackish- brown smog  
  
in the night, and the various lights from the kips at the opposite end of Sigil appeared as  
  
tiny pinpoints, much like the stars of Toril...  
  
They were heading up Doomguard Walk, and nearing the border with the Lady's Ward.  
  
Of course, the distance is fairly long, but Valese wasted no time and quickly and quietly  
  
ran under the shadows of various kips. Always in front of him, yet always out of reach,  
  
she was difficult to catch up with.  
  
She stopped momentarily when she spied a closed weapon store with a faction symbol  
  
painted on the cloth doors. Yoss stopped with her and examined the faction symbol as  
  
well. Failing to understand the significance or recognize the symbol of the faction, he  
  
shot her a quizzical glance instead.  
  
"Whoever runs this place is a Taker." Valese said, "I'll have to keep that in mind."  
  
"Why is it important that you know of a shopkeep who is a Taker?"  
  
"Because if we didn't do it, the Fated did."  
  
"At this point in time, I am not sure whether I should be more worried about us or the  
  
purposed patsy...you really have something major in the works, don't you?"  
  
"Hehehehehe." Valese chuckled, "Nope, I just like fucking with people. Unless that  
  
counts."  
  
"It could..." Yoss said, "I guess those that lend credence to the concept of magnitude  
  
would evaluate that on a few separate continuums such as the numbers of individuals  
  
fucked with, the methods of fucking employed and the implements used in said endeavor,  
  
and the overall reaction to and result of the fucking...or maybe we will never know, the  
  
momentum of one action can often transcend the existence of its originator...who knows  
  
when the measuring needs to end...and who says that we really can measure  
  
everything..."  
  
Yoss stopped himself and considered for a moment.  
  
"Well, I am not yet sure if I agree with your motivations for your actions but I think I  
  
can begin to understand why you find this entertaining."  
  
Valese only grinned.  
  
"So what type of fucking do you like?"  
  
"Hard to say..." he said, "I find pretty much any consensual interaction with an  
  
attractive female to be physically pleasing in one way or another...Ultimately, I think I  
  
would hope for sex with a female friend that I was attracted to, respected, and was  
  
completely honest with. Some might say love, but that seems almost too simple, I think  
  
of it as an interaction and combination of the extremes of physical and mental pleasure.  
  
Something both selfish and selfless..."  
  
He drifted into a moment of wistful contemplation and then grinned nastily.  
  
"From there...well let us say that a wide range of magical knowledge and an equally  
  
adventurous partner could result in some outrageous situations..."  
  
Yoss then glanced over at Valese.  
  
"Well, that is probably more personal disclosure than you were looking for...now 'tis  
  
your turn - what do you like?"  
  
Valese looked at him incredulously and laughed.  
  
"I'd say I like... "  
  
She paused for a moment, her pupiless eyes shining in the night like those of a rat.  
  
"...of all the guys I've had the (*cough*) pleasure of being with, I'd say I liked the ones  
  
who were a little more concerned about pleasing me than themselves. Not really a selfless  
  
thing, Valese thinks...if they please a woman it's only another notch in their egos. But  
  
still, it's the illusion they care that counts.  
  
It's even worse when they're clueless and still lovesick. It almost makes me pity them. I  
  
mean, c'mon, I believe two people can have a healthy sexual relationship without all  
  
those lovey-dovey emotions. You?  
  
It's not like I really gave a fuck about them either, but some of their attempts were  
  
pathetic. I hate it when they squeeze my nipples like they're applying a dash of salt to  
  
some dish or turning a pair of knobs on a machine..."  
  
Valese chuckled.  
  
"...or when they pull out at the last moment to spray their slimy goo on my breasts like  
  
fucking apes. As if that's erotic. And there's others who don't know when or how to speed  
  
up or slow down--also a problem. I don't know if it's prime trait or not, but I'm beginning  
  
to doubt it. I've had lots of terrible sex, but not much good sex. But hey, maybe  
  
something's better than nothing. I'm not picky."  
  
Yoss only chuckled and gave her a warm grin.  
  
"Never thought I would catch you off guard...novel experience, no?"  
  
He hesitated, considering.  
  
"I can say that I at least partially agree with you, that sex can generate a great deal of  
  
physical pleasure without emotion, but I also wonder about a possible problem with your  
  
logic. You state that you enjoy yourself the most when your partner is concerned with  
  
your pleasure as well as his own, but do you not think that such concern might also come  
  
with emotion and magnify the experience? Would emotion take ego out of the equation  
  
or is it merely another form of ego?"  
  
Another beat.  
  
"Dangerous conversation...perhaps we should table it until we finish this business with  
  
Elister - he seemed to be sweating things enough when they were running smoothly..."  
  
Valese looked as if she was about to say something but quickly nodded and lead him  
  
on through the rest of the Ward. Eventually, the smog cleared and the buildings he passed  
  
looked a little cleaner. The streets were wider too, and less cluttered. In fact, he now had  
  
a clear view of the sky, unobscured by the smog of the Lower Ward.  
  
The building that must be the one Valese referred to as the Temple of the Abyss soared  
  
menacingly into the sky. Chanting from within told him that a service was about to  
  
commence. The temple's exterior was simple black stone embellished by the tarnished  
  
silver blades with which planars enjoy decorating nearly every building.  
  
The streets were relatively empty, and even the Harmonium, the red armored faction  
  
which served as law enforcement in Sigil, wouldn't wish to guard this area. Valese  
  
quickly lead Yoss down a gloomy alley and stairs which lead into an underhall, perhaps  
  
part of the temple itself or some abandoned unfinished stretch of the catacombs. In one  
  
shadowy corner, five conspicuous figures waited.  
  
The tallest member was ugly and terrifying. He easily stood 6'8" and was clad in spiky,  
  
black-tinted plate mail. His skin was similarly pitch black with a tinge of green, though it  
  
was somewhat scaly and covered in poc marks. His features were also twisted and sharp.  
  
His nose looked a little hooked, and his brow sports a pair of small horns.  
  
He may have been mistaken for a particularly vile tiefling if Yoss were less more naïve,  
  
but this fiend was a cambion, the dreaded offspring of a mortal human female and a  
  
demon. Whereas tieflings are a quarter fiend at most in heritage, the cambion is half  
  
demon, and all the more evil. I confess I don't know much about this cambion, dear  
  
reader, but the less said about him, the better.  
  
Two other figures stood nearby, though they were considerably shorter than this one  
  
(and shorter than Yoss), though they were both cloaked and stand near the shadows, so he  
  
couldn't see them very well. Near the center was the one Yoss recognized as Elister. He  
  
was short and dressed in plate mail as he was at the Ubiquitous Wayfarer, though he had  
  
removed the sallet of his helm and revealed his face. His hair was graying and thinning,  
  
though his features looked younger than his hair might suggest.  
  
"You made it." the huge cambion said to Valese, "It's about time too. Any longer and  
  
we'd be hunting you down."  
  
Valese ignored him, though Elister immediately took notice notice of Yoss.  
  
"Wha--you've brought someone with? Who the hell is this berk?!"  
  
"My pet wizard." Valese said.  
  
"What cell is he transferred from? How can we trust him?"  
  
The cambion's already slitted eyes narrowed.  
  
"It doesn't matter." he said in a low rasp, "So long as you shut your fucking bone-box  
  
and do what you're told I don't care. If you leave before we're done, we kill you."  
  
"This is ridiculous." Elister said, "We can't just accept some random berk's help. I know  
  
Zerchai didn't show, but why--"  
  
"Because I say so!" snapped the cambion. Everyone was silent. He turned his attention  
  
back toward Yoss.  
  
"You don't ask questions. You don't ask our names. You don't ask anything other than  
  
is directly related to our mission. And you don't get anything other than what Valese is  
  
paying you, and I could give a shit less what that is. Do we have an agreement?"  
  
Yoss nodded.  
  
"Agreed on all accounts. I am and remain quiet, out of your way, and don't know shit."  
  
The cambion smiled broadly.  
  
"I like you already."  
  
Then he turned to his cohorts.  
  
"Salogel, Anraat. You move out first. We're giving you a head start."  
  
The two figures did not nod or speak but already began to move, and the were quite  
  
graceful in their motions. When they did step into the light, Yoss caught a sneaky  
  
glimpse at their faces under their hoods. Both appeared to be elves, more lithe and  
  
slender than humans, with elegant and finely chisled features. They were out of sight  
  
quickly, but the cambion still waited and watched carefully.  
  
Elister donned the top of his helmet again, and Valese took the time to fish out a small  
  
bag filled with a black gummy substance which she carefully rubbed all over the blade of  
  
her sword. Yoss glanced around uncomfortably and readied himself as best he could,  
  
pulling the hood of his cloak over his head to hide his facial features, stooping and  
  
leaning on his staff to alter the appearance of his height and age, loosening up his sling  
  
and making some bullets readily accessible. The cambion peered out from around a  
  
corner.  
  
"Here they come." he said.  
  
Salogel swiftly arrived from down the street, his cloak still donned.  
  
"Lord Osterhage is at the center," the elf said, "and he has four others with him. I don't  
  
think it would be ideal place to strike. Anraat and I could create a diversion elsewhere,  
  
unless you have any better ideas."  
  
Confused, Yoss shot Valese a questioning glance, but remained silent. What sort of  
  
group was this? He had long heard rumors about the Revolutionary League or Anarchists,  
  
the anti-faction faction, who were the constant bane of civilized order in Sigil, especially  
  
to lawful factions. But were they Anarchists? The cambion turned toward him.  
  
"Alright wizard, what spells can you cast?"  
  
Helpless, Yoss looked momentarily at Valese as if to seek approval to speak, but  
  
attempted to give her a look asking 'how much should I say?'  
  
"I have a couple of spells that I can use to harm living creatures with acid or magic, I  
  
can cause objects to levitate, I can create very detailed illusions through continued  
  
concentration, I can make myself difficult to detect in the midst of a melee, I can heal  
  
wounds and slow the effects of poison, I can attempt to gain hints about future events, I  
  
can attempt to dispel magical affects, I can enhance how others see me, I can try to speak  
  
with the dead, I can create a scrying device with a pool of water, and I..."  
  
He paused for a moment, hoping Valese would interrupt.  
  
"...can render an individual invisible for a short period of time. I can offer advice if you  
  
seek it, but otherwise await your command."  
  
"Invisibility." the cambion said, "On yourself or for a group?"  
  
"On a single individual, and only for a short period of time."  
  
The cambion grumbled.  
  
"Only one of us, huh? I guess that leaves no question as to whom it should be."  
  
He indicated Valese.  
  
"Now as for these illusions...can you make it seem as if the dragon itself is set loose  
  
from the tower? That would drive them away soon enough..."  
  
"I could craft such an illusion," Yoss said, "but what sorts of dragons are common here  
  
in Sigil? The more believable the illusion is, the more of an effect it will probably  
  
have..."  
  
"There's only one dragon in Sigil," the cambion said, "and that's the Mercykiller's  
  
mascot. It's called the wyrm. It's a huge beast with a pair of massive wings and a stinger  
  
on its tail. Prissy primes call it a 'wyvern'. Like it matters. It's kept in a tower not far from  
  
the Prison. They feed it the worst sorts of criminals. It's called Riding the Wyrm."  
  
The cambion grinned horridly.  
  
"I can think of several such creatures from my plane and could probably craft such an  
  
illusion, but not knowing much of Sigil, I am not sure how believable the beast's escape  
  
and attack would be, particularly if I do not have an exact mental image of the beast...let  
  
me present an alternative for your consideration, how would the appearance of a  
  
rampaging balor or pit fiend do? Would that be believable here in Sigil?"  
  
"That's perfect." the cambion said, "We'll just wait and see how to implement it...."  
  
He turned to Salogel.  
  
"Anraat's still out, does it look like the coast is clear?"  
  
Salogel nodded.  
  
"Let us be off."  
  
Yoss nodded uncomfortably and prepared himself to cast the spells when necessary, but  
  
otherwise followed the group, continuing the crotchety old man routine in an attempt to  
  
somewhat obscure his appearance.  
  
The cambion motioned for Salogel to depart, and soon he did, followed shortly by  
  
Valese, who signaled the party when the less manuverable were to leave. Yoss was with  
  
the cambion and Elister, and the three of them quickly sprinted between shadows and lit  
  
streetlights, weaving from side to side throughout the streets until they found a fence  
  
made of sharpened spikes that surrounds a much larger expanse he hadn't seen before.  
  
It reeked of carrion, too, and before long, as Valese motioned for the rest of the group  
  
to enter the nearest "safe" zone, Yoss notice the remains of bodies impailed through pikes  
  
set up in patterns around the corners of the square. It was Petitioner's Square, where  
  
executions were carried out in Sigil by a faction called the Mercykillers, and perhaps with  
  
too much relish. The rotting stench was nearly unbearable, and a few nocturnal birds, bats  
  
and rats chewed on the remains of various condemned. A pair of stray dogs fought over a  
  
rotted foot, but were soon scared away at the cambion's approach. Some dead were  
  
displayed in cages, some on pikes, and all were in various stages of decomposition. Not  
  
surprisingly, the ground was also littered with white and gray bones, which were no  
  
doubt picked clean by scavengers. Some hung higher than others, and there were a few  
  
single severed heads on pikes in addition to the bodies.  
  
Past the next wall was what looked like a gallows poll and a smaller building--probably  
  
a guard post of some sort, where lights shone from within. Yoss couldn't see much of the  
  
entire area due to the dark, but a few braziers lit the square here and there and gave it a  
  
hellish glow.  
  
Everyone remained tensely silent. Valese, Salogel, and Anraat were nowhere in sight,  
  
but off in the distance, Yoss could see three Harmonium guards and a few Mercykillers.  
  
They were patrolling and having a normal conversation, though they were too far away to  
  
hear anything.  
  
"He's inside." the cambion whispered, "I'm sure of it."  
  
"Is this where you would like me to provide the distraction, hopefully clearing out those  
  
guards?" Yoss whispered back, in a barely audible whisper.  
  
The cambion squinted.  
  
"Wait..."  
  
"Why?" hissed Elister, "It's just three of them, and five of us."  
  
Valese was behind him before he knew it, and she motioned something in sign  
  
language. Yoss wasn't sure, but he thought she was indicating that no one else was  
  
present on the other side. The cambion nodded.  
  
"Better be on the safe side." he said.  
  
She also made a sing to Yoss that he guessed indicated to make her invisible.  
  
"Nod once, and disappear." Yoss whispered.  
  
Valese nodded, and Yoss prepared his spell as quietly as he could.  
  
"You have about ten minutes..."  
  
With his final gesture, Valese vanished from view. Yoss felt her lips press against his  
  
forehead quickly, but she was then gone. The guards continued their discussion and this  
  
time began advancing in their direction.  
  
"Now's the time for your demon, wizard boy." the cambion hissed.  
  
Yoss began summoning his illusionary spectral force, visualizing something horrible  
  
occurring within sight of the guards.  
  
As they advanced forward, they saw a sudden flash and a towering figure dressed in  
  
black robes stepping out of a portal, holding a glowing stave in his hand. The figure  
  
chanted mysterious words and waved the stave in an intricate pattern above the ground.  
  
As he finished he spat on the ground and screamed:  
  
"You paid me and mine in blood and now I return the favor tenfold!"  
  
The demon then disappeared back into his portal, which promptly closed. Slowly the  
  
ground began to glow with arcane figures and, in a flash of light and with a whiff of  
  
brimstone a towering scaly creature appeared, stretching out its wings and lashing its tail.  
  
Almost immediately, sheets of fire flowed forth from the creature, shooting between the  
  
guards, and the air began to drastically warm in its presence. The pit fiend slowly turned  
  
its attention to the guards, who heard within their minds a horrible voice hissing:  
  
"I hope you will satissssfy my hunger, mortalssss!"*  
  
Yoss waited carefully as he gazed upon the terrified guards. They froze in trepidation,  
  
whimpering like boy scouts.  
  
"F-fall back!" one of them shouted.  
  
Another inquisitive Hardhead attempted to speak to the Pit Fiend.  
  
"Who sum--?"  
  
His comrades quickly pulled him back and the four guards departed, fleeing through the  
  
side gate, gone in less than a minute.  
  
Smiling, the cambion got up and quickly ran through the shadows, nearing the small  
  
building in the center of the square. Elister soon followed, but no one stepped into the  
  
center, for the braziers lit that area in a dim glowing ring. Before long, Yoss saw Anraat  
  
and Salogel stepping out from the darkness to open the lock in the front door, which was  
  
quickly and efficiently deactivated. The cambion waited patiently by the door, listening  
  
intensely with Anraat at his side.  
  
"Nothing." she said, "There's no back door either. We have him cornered."  
  
Yoss waited for further instruction, attempting to mentally maintain the image of the  
  
Fiend setting about the area, quickly dismembering and igniting a couple illusory  
  
nondescript individuals that appeared to come out to challenge the monstrosity, littering  
  
the area with their charred corpses. He preferred this, in fact, to what he feared the  
  
cambion and Anraat were actually planning to do.  
  
The cambion broke down the door and both he and Elister burst in.except no one was  
  
present, only an empty table, a bookshelf, and a few weapon racks along with a tabard  
  
sporting the Mercykiller's symbol. Salogel readied his bow as the cambion broke down  
  
the second door. Again, no one was inside. The cambion growled.  
  
"We've been deceived!"  
  
"He could be stationed somewhere else." Salogel said.  
  
"No he isn't!" Elister said, "Beringe was posing as one of them today, and he told me  
  
himself Myron has a shift here tonight."  
  
The cambion relaxed for a second.  
  
"Well this is sure to attract this attention eventually, anyway. What paladin wouldn't be  
  
obliged to rid the city of a threatening fiend? We just have to find someplace to hide until  
  
he shows."  
  
As Yoss continued to wait outside, he saw some more people approaching. He  
  
recognized three of them as the Hardheads you scared off plus the Mercykiller with them.  
  
But they'd brought more friends. Another Mercykiller, and this one was a short woman  
  
with a sword nearly as tall as she.  
  
Next to her was a much taller Harmonium officer, and he not only towered over his  
  
comrades, but somehow looked more majestic than any of them. There was an unnatural  
  
glow around him that somehow commanded respect; his skin was pale and naturally  
  
luminescent. He wore no helm, and his white-gold hair flows naturally over his  
  
shoulders. His features were also slender, elegant, and almost androgynous. In his hands  
  
he held a halberd that seemed to have an equally impressive sheen. Somehow Yoss knew  
  
he's the one this group is looking for. In fact, he had heard of him before, somewhere.  
  
Myron Osterhage.  
  
The aasimar. Just as tieflings were infamous for being touched with the blood of lower  
  
planar beings, the aasimar were planars from the opposite end of the spectrum, containing  
  
celestial blood in their ancestry. Just looking at Lord Osterhage was enough to tell he was  
  
the polar opposite of the horrid cambion.  
  
"By the gods!" the female Mercykiller screamed when she saw Yoss' illusionary  
  
demon, "Take it down!!"  
  
But Myron only looked relaxed.  
  
Yoss continued to play the old man, cowering against the wall in apparent terror of the  
  
fiend. He concentrated as he cowered in mock fear, continuing to maintain the image of  
  
the fiend, having it fling a mutilated, burning corpse in the direction of the lesser guards  
  
(landing just close enough for them to see the ravaged features and smell the charred  
  
flesh) and come at them in a fiery tempest. At the same time, however, he also attempted  
  
to project his own image with someone else's voice within the building, stating:  
  
"Osterhage has appeared outside!"  
  
The guards were frozen in terror, but Lord Osterhage advanced toward the fiend and  
  
studied it, all the while maintaining a defensive stance.  
  
"It's an illusion!" he said.  
  
The other guards relaxed a little.  
  
"Are you sure?" the woman asked.  
  
"Positive." Myron replied.  
  
He then struck the fiend with his halberd, and it dissipated almost instantly. The other  
  
five now entered the open area, looking bewildered. Lord Osterhage looked at Yoss with  
  
some concern.  
  
"Are you alright?" he asked, "Did you see anyone else around here?"  
  
"Thank you, milord!" Yoss said in a quavering voice, "I think I am alright. I saw this  
  
wizard appear and summon this horrible fiend. When it appeared I was scared and I just  
  
tried to get out of the way. I heard that door explode and a voice in there."  
  
Yoss indicated the small building.  
  
".but I dunno if the fiend or the wizard done it. Screw this crazy place, I gotta go  
  
home to Toril..."  
  
Yoss continued to cower against the wall as he mentally focused the image he created  
  
inside the building to say, in a much quieter voice "he may be coming in to you, but if he  
  
doesn't - get outside quick", and had it vanish.  
  
The cambion squinted at the illusion as Salogel kept a careful eye on the window,  
  
readying his bow.  
  
"Shit." the cambion said, "Six of them, five of us. But I count for two or three at least.  
  
We can take them."  
  
In less than a second, the doors burst open, and out charged the cambion with Anraat  
  
and Elister at either side. Salogel was in tow behind them, with his bow drawn. Lord  
  
Osterhage's eyes widened, but as he readied his halberd, someone landed on top of him.  
  
Valese, having been invisible before, now appeared in view. Giggling wildly, she was  
  
still on him like a monkey on a tree; the aasimar swayed and lost his balance as she  
  
punched the blade of her sword through the back of his red shiny breast plate. He  
  
stumbled forward as frothy blood spewed from his mouth.  
  
The cambion drew his serrated hand-and-a-half sword and attacked the nearest  
  
Hardhead. In only a second or two, he had felled him in two powerful blows, cleaving  
  
through his armor first and slicing his throat second, ripping his neck to a thread.  
  
Salogel let two arrows loose, one of which hit a Hardhead in the shoulder, and though  
  
he was not dead, he dropped his weapon and clutched his wound in agony, for some  
  
reason preferring to writhe on the ground.  
  
Anraat reached for her long sword, and as she drew it the blade shined bright with red  
  
flames. As she tossed off her drab cloak, revealing her elegant elven frame and silvery-  
  
white hair, she quickly sliced into the next halberd-wielding guard. Elister charged and  
  
swiped at one of the Mercykillers with his broadsword, driving him back, though he only  
  
gave his enemy a negligible cut. The second blow was parried by the man's shield.  
  
Yoss slowly stood up and made more distance, attempting to stay out of the way of the  
  
melee and still acting surprised. Valese jumped off Myron like a frog and lunged at the  
  
female Mercykiller with her short sword and dagger but similarly found her thrusts and  
  
jabs batted away. The warrior attempted to swing her blade once more, but was soon met  
  
by an arrow from Salogel. Gritting her teeth, the pained woman swung her claymore  
  
wildly at Valese, but missed the nimble tiefling by a hair.  
  
The other Mercykiller swung his axe at Elister only to clang against his shield, while  
  
Anraat skipped around her opponent, slashing wildly as she passed him, only to split his  
  
skull in twain with one carefully aimed blow. The wound cauterized instantly due to the  
  
enchantment of her weapon. Finished with his guard, the cambion charged Valese's  
  
Mercykiller and drove her back, placing one deep cut along her flanks. Stepping back,  
  
she parried the next blow from his powerful weapon, though her knees bent from the  
  
force and she soon knelt holding the sword above her head in desperation.  
  
And though no one was expecting it, Lord Osterhage summoned his strength and  
  
lunged at the cambion, brutally slicing him across the chest with the axe blade of the  
  
halberd and skewering him with the spear-end. The cambion was nearly knocked down  
  
by his powerful blows, and his expression changed from smug cruelty to pure hatred.  
  
Taking no chances, Yoss attempted to conjure another illusion of additional warriors,  
  
though to his dismay it doesn't sway the remaining fighters.  
  
Elister's Mercykiller drew a horn from his side and, backing away as quickly as he  
  
could, blew for help. The sound of the bugle echoed into the night sky for only seconds  
  
before Elister smashed it out of his hand. Anraat closed in on the Mercykiller from the  
  
side and ran him through with her flame blade. The sword punched through his  
  
breastplate and heated the armor, and as she pulled out, the wound had cauterized on both  
  
sides, and the breastplate as well as chainmail links were now oozing down his side as  
  
blood. The guard screamed in agony as he fell.  
  
Salogel, on the other hand, sent two more arrows into the fray, missing Lord Osterhage,  
  
but impaling the remaining Mercykiller. Only arrows feathers were seen imbedded into  
  
her; the rest of the arrow had punctured her completely and a good portion of the  
  
arrowhead and shaft pierced through her back. Still, she was alive by a thread, and  
  
collapsed in pain instead of fighting.  
  
Lord Osterhage showed the cambion no mercy as the two staggered from their deep  
  
wounds. With a deft and brutal thrust, he skewered the cambion through the shoulder  
  
with the halberd before he could lift the sword anew.  
  
"FUCK! YOU BASTARD!!"  
  
Even more enraged than before, the cambion ripped the halberd out himself, spilling  
  
more of his own blood, gritting his now reddened fangs, and burried his blade into Lord  
  
Osterhage, cutting him across the shoulder and slicing his chest. The blows, of course,  
  
were somewhat deflected by the aasimar's armor, but he was still knocked down.  
  
He stumbled and fell, but amazingly enough, he managed to catch himself with his own  
  
hands. The cambion backed off a little himself, cursing as he unstoppered a blue-flasked  
  
potion and quaffed it down. Yoss knew what is was as well; a potion of healing often  
  
made by the very sortstemples he debated against.  
  
Now finding the opportunity, Valese struck Lord Osterhage and Anraat did the same,  
  
but he still did not fall. Myron looked up this time as Yoss' illusions of more enemies  
  
surrounded him. Elister, Valese, Anraat, and Salogel (drawing his bow back) were  
  
closest. Another cambion seemed to step out from the building as well, while the real  
  
cambion continued to curse.  
  
The cambion breathed heavily. Annoyed, he kicked the groaning Hardhead and stabbed  
  
him through the throat with his sword to finish him off. The Mercykiller was silent and  
  
gurgling bloody spittle already, but he took no chances and decapitated her where she  
  
lied.  
  
Finally he sheathed the wicked sword and approached Lord Osterhage, who was  
  
weakened, not the least from physical damage, but from the poison Valese had injected  
  
him. His vision blurred and doubled. It now looked like there were countless more  
  
opponents, not just five.  
  
"So you know," the cambion said, "there's nothing I enjoy more than harming  
  
celestials."  
  
The cambion grabbed the back of Myron's white mane, tilted his head back, and spat  
  
bloodily in his face. He then smashed his fists into Myron's head repeatedly as Anraat  
  
and Valese held him in place, beating him back and forth, right and left, up and down.  
  
When he was satisfied with pummeling, the cambion kicked him a few times and spat on  
  
him again. Myron was surely unconscious, and his noble face was now bloodied and  
  
resembles ground hamburger, like Christ at Golgotha.  
  
"I'd piss on you if I hadn't lost so much blood..."  
  
"You might have killed him, you know." Elister said, "We need him alive."  
  
"At this point I hardly care. Allright, put him in the bag and we'll give this place the  
  
laugh."  
  
Yoss glanced around sadly at the carnage, but continued to weave illusions, making the  
  
illusory members of the group continue to battle replicas of Myron and his entourage, and  
  
also to conceal the identities of the corpses that littered the area. He focused intensely,  
  
trying to maintain the images as long as he could before the group was to flee. It was  
  
better than looking at what was really happening.  
  
Anraat retrieved a sack from her belt and gingerly spread it along the ground. She then  
  
carefully put Lord Osterhage into the sack. Almost immediately it was apparent this was  
  
no ordinary sack, for it did not increase in size or volume with the addition of a 6'6"  
  
armored aasimar. The halberd fit in as well, along with a few other Harmonium weapons.  
  
She soon closed the magical bag and looked around. Elister cautiously glances back and  
  
fourth as well. He walked a few feet spireward.  
  
"Did you hear that?" he said.  
  
Salogel, who was picking arrows out of victims, stopped instantly. Valese followed, and  
  
soon the three of them advanced toward the gallows pole and peaked on the left side.  
  
And there he was, a dark, silent robed figure; still, but barely visible in the dark.  
  
"Hey you!" Elister shouted, "What do think you're--"  
  
Valese put her finger over her lips.  
  
"SHHHH!!!!"  
  
The figure ran instantly, and Salogel fired two arrows into the darkness, to no avail.  
  
"I'll get him eventually..."  
  
"Shit, we've been seen!" Elister muttered.  
  
"You fuck-tard!" said Valese.  
  
The cambion quickly caught up.  
  
"Someone was watching us." Anraat said. "Could be a Guvner spy, or a berk in the  
  
wrong place at the wrong time."  
  
The cambion growled.  
  
"And he likely went back to his master. We've been in enough trouble for one evening,  
  
and I doubt we could find him if we put up a chase. Besides, he was probably fooled by  
  
wizard-boy's illusions. Let's give this place the laugh before he returns with friends."  
  
"I'll plant the amulets!" Valese said. No one argued.  
  
She scampered off to where the battle was fought as the rest of the group made post-  
  
haste in the shadows through the clockwise side of Petitioner's Square.  
  
Unspeakably depressed, Yoss stayed and maintained his illusion while Valese planted  
  
the amulets, this time attempting to make himself and Valese appear to be commoners  
  
who were slightly injured in the battle. When she finished, he fled with her instead.  
  
"Where the hell are you going, berk?" the cambion said.  
  
"Let him stay with Valese." Anraat said, "She brought him, remember?"  
  
"Fine, but we have to get going."  
  
The cambion, Elister, and Salogel departed, but Anraat followed you back as Yoss kept  
  
his eye and mind on the illusion. Valese reached into her pack and pulled out an amulet  
  
with a symbol that closely resembles the one he saw at the weapon stand earlier. As  
  
Anraat approaches, however, Valese quickly pocketed it.  
  
"Meet us tomorrow at the House of the Griffin." she said, "Don't forget."  
  
Valese grinned and nodded, but her smile faded as soon as Anraat left. She then drew  
  
fourth two such amulets--one of the Fated's symbol and another with a different faction  
  
symbol and laid one on the ground near the slain corpses, looking as if it were  
  
haphazardly knocked off the way the weapons have been knocked out of the guards  
  
hands. The second amulet she threw into the threshold of the guard post.  
  
Turning to see that Yoss was still with her, Valese smiled, but remained silent and  
  
quickly departed from the square, taking a different path than the others. She motioned  
  
for you to follow.  
  
Yoss tried to make a mental image of the faction symbol he did not recognize and  
  
quickly follows Valese away from the scene. She scampered off into the night while he  
  
closely follow her. Unlike last time, she did not pause to look at the scenery or chat about  
  
silly things. Instead, she was fast and seemed to know the quickest route back to the  
  
Ubiquitous Wayfarer. She took him over fences, under archways, and into narrow alleys  
  
before he found himself back on Ironmonger street and at the inn. Thankfully, he didn't  
  
run into anyone along the way.  
  
"Is it safe to stay here, or should we grab Nherid and relocate..." Yoss whispered,  
  
"Elister knows us and this place..."  
  
Valese almost laughed.  
  
"We're fine. He's the one who was seen and not us."  
  
"He is not really the one that worries me, if that cambion frowns at him, he is likely to  
  
give a detailed history of his life...and I am a bit afraid that we might just be loose  
  
threads..."  
  
Yoss sighed, looking rather sad.  
  
"But I wouldn't put too much weight on my words, quite the hypocrite I am. Here I go  
  
on about one right nasty sod I knock off like it was the end of existence and then actively  
  
I participate in THAT...maybe I should just try and avoid people, I fear that I don't do  
  
anyone much good."  
  
He sighed again.  
  
"Now, do you think you might be able to tell me a bit more about your part in that...I  
  
am guessing that it was a bit of "fucking with people", but I don't know enough 'bout the  
  
various factions here to fully understand what was going on. It also seemed like you were  
  
hiding a bit from our companions there..."  
  
Valese studied him for a moment.  
  
"I'm not fond of them." She said, "In fact, I fucked up their scheme a bit. You see, some  
  
of my fellow Chaosmen told me I was too much of a namer, so I figured that harming the  
  
cause of the Anarchists...who use us as pawns anyway...would be going against the norm.  
  
See, if you support the cause of chaos all the time you become too predictable.  
  
That and they're also working for this blood who wants to be pulling the strings in Sigil.  
  
He wants to start a faction war or something. Not that I would mind it, but I think he's the  
  
one that needs to be knocked down a notch. So I made sure I'd leave clue that points to  
  
his faction.  
  
Eh...actually, they just pissed me off too many times and took too much jink off the top  
  
of my cut, but it's a good excuse, anyway."  
  
"What faction does the 'string-puller' belong to?" Yoss said, "Was that the second  
  
symbol that you left for finding?"  
  
He hesitated  
  
"...and do you plan on meeting them tomorrow? Like I said, I can't say I would trust  
  
that lot not to try to cut their costs in several ways with a singular action...or do they still  
  
need you for something?"  
  
"Maybe, maybe not...I'll be gone once they catch on...but at least it isn't obvious. I hurt  
  
both the Anarchists and their enemies. I don't discriminate."  
  
"Whatever you choose, do be careful - that is a right nasty lot and I already regret  
  
aiding them...though I do harbor a suspicion that you may have done them more harm  
  
than they realize..."  
  
"And how far would you be willing to go to learn about that.?" Valese said.  
  
"I am not sure...I guess I would have to decide along the way what I would be willing  
  
to do..."  
  
"Why don't we find out? Are you coming in?"  
  
"Well, I guess that going back into this inn is one thing I am willing to do..."  
  
Grinning, he followed Valese back into the Ubiquitous Wayfarer. Now that it was  
  
nearing antipeak, the lower level was far less crowded than it was before. There were less  
  
than 10 people who remained, and that included the bartender herself (who was cleaning  
  
up). Nherid was still there and she seemed to be arguing with another client. The  
  
remaining customers kept to themselves and looked like they're preparing to leave or  
  
retire upstairs. Yoss soon went to the bartender to get the key for his room and then  
  
picked a random table and took a seat.He stared off into space for a while, lost in  
  
introspection. Valese was waved her hand in front of his face. He snapped out of it with a  
  
slight jump.  
  
"Ahhh, sorry there. 'Fraid I was just trying to absorb this evening's events and I drifted  
  
off. I shouldn't spend so much time thinking, it might just be the end of my mind..."  
  
His face contorted momentarily with a strange grin before he snapped back again.  
  
"So, what now..." he said trailing off for a second, "...say, sorry, but I was too  
  
preoccupied to ask earlier - are you ok? If you were injured back there I have some  
  
limited healing skills and I should have a look at any wounds you sustained..."  
  
Valese shook her head.  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
Her dexterous hands found a way onto his shoulders and gripped them firmly but  
  
gently. Somehow they worked their way up and slipped into the collar of his tunic.  
  
"Are you feeling tense? Up for anything else...?"  
  
"Tense?" he said, "Yes. Up for anything else...almost always. Now should I do  
  
anything else?...that I do not know..."  
  
Valese continued to gently massage him at the shoulders.  
  
"Are you going to take Valese to your room...?"  
  
"Well, that really depends upon whether Valese wants to go to Yoss's room or not...she  
  
is under no obligation to go. What does Valese truly want?"  
  
Valese only smiled and locked her gaze with his own.  
  
"If I didn't want to I would've left. Do you want me to get Nherid? She likes  
  
threesomes."  
  
Yoss smiled and returned her gaze.  
  
"I am not sure that it would be a good idea. I seek pleasure but I also wish to give it in  
  
return. I would like to offer you my undivided attention and I fear that an extra person  
  
might confuse the situation and detract from everyone's experience. Or perhaps I am a bit  
  
greedy myself and wish to be the singular focus of your attention..."  
  
He paused.  
  
"But leaving her without lodging does seem rather rude, perhaps I should arrange for a  
  
separate room for her. Might as well use the coin while I have it, this nasty little cynical  
  
bit of my mind still expects to be beaten senseless...well, beyond what is pleasurable, that  
  
is...robbed, and set up for one thing or another when I wake. Oh well, no matter."  
  
Yoss smiled at Valese again, but she looked concerned for a split-second for some  
  
reason, though her expression then returned to its normal smugness.  
  
"Nherid's got a room already, Vlaese thinks, and she won't like being left behind. Let's  
  
go before she notices us."  
  
"Is there a problem?" Yoss said, "If I offended you in some way, I am sorry. Perhaps  
  
this is not such a good idea after all...besides, it is getting very late and thre is quite a bit  
  
of work that I need to do to prepare for the morrow..."  
  
He sighed wearily and stood up. Valese raised and eyebrow.  
  
"What? No, not at all."  
  
"You looked like you were worried for a moment there...please, what was it that  
  
troubled you?"  
  
He looked concerned as he studied her, but Valese only shook her head.  
  
"It was nothing. Let's go, huh?"  
  
It then occurred to Yoss that the moment Valese' expression flickered was when he  
  
suggested, even jokingly, that sleeping with her might bring about ill results..  
  
He sighed.  
  
"I think it was something Valese...and I think it might be better if I spent the night  
  
alone, this has become rather complicated. That being said, I still would like to talk about  
  
whatever trouble or unease I have caused you. I admit my sense of humor is rather  
  
acerbic but I thought you, of all people, might not take it too seriously. Again I apologize  
  
if I offended but you looked more worried than angered there. Would you like to talk  
  
about it now or should we wait until tomorrow?"  
  
He continued to look worried, but studied her intently. Valese only gave him an odd  
  
look and laughed uneasily. She got up.  
  
"I don't mind talking, but you were right, it's kinda late and I'll be busy tomorrow.  
  
Guess you'll have to show me what you've got some other time then."  
  
Yoss smiled back once more.  
  
"I will consider that a promise and hold you to it some day...by the hells, I am afraid  
  
that I will truly hate myself more in the morning than I do now! At least now you can tell  
  
your friends of a berk who is crazier than you are.  
  
You know what I think of that lot that you are meeting with tomorrow and though I said  
  
it before, I will say it again - do be careful. If you find yourself in more trouble than you  
  
can handle seek me out and I will do my best to help you - no strings attached...  
  
I look forward to our next interaction Valese, be it tomorrow or in the distant future, be  
  
it mental or physical. Until we meet again..."  
  
He bowed slightly as he bared her a good night. Valese gave a warm smile as she  
  
departed. It now occurred to him that his initial suspicions, cynical or not, weren't far  
  
from the truth. And though she didn't seem to bare him ill-will, he doubted Valese was  
  
any better than the thugs he met at the bridge, though he could be certain she was both  
  
more cunning and dangerous. And hence for the first time in a long time Yoss did not feel  
  
the need to satiate his curiosity. It is without question that more could be said regarding  
  
the complex tiefling Xaositect that is Valese, though her story is a tale more sad, brutal,  
  
and perverse than this one.  
  
As she left, he gave another sad sigh and investigated his room on the upper floor.  
  
Before he turned in, Yoss locked the door, places the chair's back just under the door  
  
handle, making it difficult to open the door from the exterior and used his staff as  
  
reinforcement to make it even more difficult to open. Finally, thus settled, he attempted  
  
to fall asleep.  
  
It has been a long, unpleasant, and informative evening....  
  
Yoss didn't expect to wake up any time soon.  
  
For a picture of the Anarchist party go to http://elfwood.lysator.liu.se/loth/d/a/davidm/davidm.html 


End file.
